


Green and Gold

by thescarletcentaur



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3125564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescarletcentaur/pseuds/thescarletcentaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the disappearance of her husband, Felicity Smoak finds herself in a predicament within the Bratva.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> oh hey there so you may remember me or you may not, either way... i'm back for the foreseeable future (i think, depends how the muse behaves!!!!!)
> 
> so i did have a lil series about oliver+felicity being married before he was shipwrecked but i sort of... stopped. SO NOW I'M BACK. revamped. version 2.0. with more angst. and it's darker than i first thought it would be. 
> 
> stick with me for the ride

 

The wooden floor of their newly decorated apartment was the last place she had expected to be tonight. Splayed out around her were numerous photos. Photos of them. As children, as best friends, as lovers. Sandpits, paint fights, dinner parties. It was all there. Their life in a box. Her hand gently ran over the two familiar faces of this particular photo.

_“You have to marry me now,” Oliver exclaimed. Now that he had won the race, it was his turn to be bossy. “I’m the king of the world!”_

_It was not his fault that Felicity was slow. She never beat him. Never ever. This time was no different. No matter how had she tried, he was always a tiny bit faster. Sometimes he thought about letting her win. Sometimes. Today was not sometimes._

_Felicity watched doubtfully. Her bottom lip stuck out prominently as she frowned back at her best friend._

_“You have to, you pinky promised. Your dress is white and my suit is black like at a wedding.”_

_“Fine. Just because you won the stupid race. This is stupid,” she retorted as she stuck her tongue out._

_Two hours later, they were fast asleep by the fireplace with intertwined hands. Haribo rings rested on their fourth fingers as their mothers quietly chuckled about their cuteness from afar._

Felicity could almost feel the warmth of the fire on her skin. Another photo caught her eye.

_They were all huddled around the campfire. It had been the hottest Starling summer of their lives which truly was saying something. The last semester had thankfully come to a close. Felicity got into MIT. Oliver and Tommy had become business interns for their parents companies, respectively. Sara was doing… whatever Sara did. Each of them had made enough memories to last a life time. At least it felt like that. Eventually the fire flies made an appearance, dancing around one another in the clear black sky above them. Tommy and Sara disappeared back to their own tent. Finally, they were alone._

_“Do you remember when we were little? We used to play in the garden?” Oliver asked as he played familiar chords on his guitar. Felicity's head rested in his lap._

_“The garden? You mean the couple of acres that you like to call your ‘garden’? So modest, Queen,” Felicity smiled up at him._

_“I would never let you win,” he chuckled as he rolled his eyes at her previous comment._

_“I know, my poor heart was always wounded. Lucky for you, I had a soft spot.”_

_“My favourite memory is when we got married with those haribo rings,” Oliver laughed._

_“Really?” Felicity sighed. “Maybe one day.”_

_“Yeah, maybe one day.”_

_The chords continued to play as Felicity drifted off._

She picked up another, a photo perhaps that should not have been taken. Tommy knew no boundaries when it came to when it was time to stop. All the same, it made her smile.

_“Psst,” he whispered from outside the sliding door._

_Felicity almost jumped out of her skin._

_“Ms. Smoak, let me in.”_

_"I thought you were a murderer," she exclaimed. Quickly, she opened the door before heading back towards her bed. She sent an appreciative glance towards her husband-to-be’s abs. Not forgetting those v lines. They never failed to bring her some form of satisfaction._

_“You do realise that Sara will brutally murder us both if she finds out, right? One night. You couldn’t stay out of my bed for one night?”_

_“Which is why I will be up and out of here by the crack of dawn. For now though, I should definitely sleep here. You know I sleep better with you than without you.”_

_“Flattery won’t get you into my bed, Mr Queen.”_

_“Nope but this might,” he hovered over her as he gently pressed kisses along her neck._

_“You can do that tomorrow.”_

_“You won’t be my fiancée tomorrow though.”_

_She gently slapped him on the back to push him off her, “that’s right. I’ll be your wife, you dummy.”_

_“Fine, no more kisses. You can’t possible make me leave this bed though.”_

_“Only if you take the blame tomorrow morning.”_

_“Deal, what makes you think I wouldn’t?”_

_“I think I know you well enough, Oliver.”_

_“You have to admit that Sara is scary when she’s mad.”_

_“Night, Oliver.”_

_She pushed back against him whilst wrapping her arm around her waist. She felt him relax against her as he linked his hand with hers. The quiet sound of snoring began to fill the room as he drifted off. “I love you,” she whispered before drifting into her own sleep._

_Needless to say, Felicity was not impressed when Tommy Merlyn woke them up just four hours later._

_“Tommy Merlyn, get that camera out of my face!”_

_Sara was not impressed._

The phone rang, breaking Felicity’s reflection. She let it ring. Just before it finished ringing, she caught it. She could do with a break from deciding where to put the photos.

“No, you don’t understand. Oliver went to work this morning. What do you mean “he got on a boat?” Felicity frowned.

Detective Lance sighed from the other end of the phone, “I’m sorry, Mrs Queen. The report is that a boat belonging to the Queen’s disappeared of the southern isles. He was with one other, a lady. Haven’t received her name yet. One of the staff saw her sneak on.

“Thea?”

“Mrs Queen…Mrs Harper was not on the ship.”

Just like that, Felicity’s heart shattered. The phrases ‘a lady’, ‘saw her sneak on’ and ‘Mrs Harper was not on the ship,’ swirled round her head as they added to the sinking feeling in her stomach.

“I am sorry about this news, Mrs Queen. I’ll give you some time to think, Nothing’s definite yet, we need to think about recov-,” Detective Lance spoke carefully.

She cut him off. Then she sank to the floor. Her heart hit the bottom of her stomach. The prickling feeling in her eyes hinted towards the tears that were about to fall. She choked back a sob as she desperately fumbled for her mobile phone. She frantically typed in the number.

“Oliver?” her voice trembled.

“Hi, it’s Oliver Queen,” she heard his voice ring out round the apartment.

“-and Felicity Queen,”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that, Mrs Queen. Anyway we can’t get to the phone right now,” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“So please leave a message and we’ll get back to you!” they said in unison before they dissolved into laughter.

She pressed end. She rang the number again.

“Hi, it’s Oliv-,”

And again. And again. And again. Until the darkness took her.

“Felicity, open up!”

She had hated the dark. She always would. She stumbled around for the light switch, nearly sending herself flying on a photograph. He had made it better. It was less scary when he was there. He’ll be home soon. Then it came flooding back.

“Let me in, it’s Thea!”

Clearing her throat, Felicity automatically reached for the door handle. Immediately, she was engulfed by Thea, the tear tracks still gracing her cheeks.

That was the last thing Felicity remembered. The days blurred by. Time didn’t mean anything any more. Time meant nothing if he wasn’t there to fill it. If he wasn’t there.

He was there though, in a sense. She sat at his grave. The funeral had been hours ago now, the lights of the Queen manor twinkled in the distance lighting the garden well enough for her to see.

‘I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I’ve heard good things come in threes. Come back. Come back. Come back. If I say it in threes, will you magically appear? Of all the people you could have taken with you, it makes no sense to me that you chose…her. It feels like I’ve been shot. A dull ache follows me around. I’m in my own personal hell, Oliver. My own personal hell without you.’

Snap.

‘Hello?’ she whispered as she turned slightly, feeling for the gun under her skirt.

‘Nothing, it was nothing,’ she reassured herself.

She turned back to his grave. Her hand never left the hem of her skirt.

“You could have said goodbye, you never said goodbye. I don’t believe it for a second. You don’t feel gone. Is that stupid? I feel insane. I’ve been sat here for hours, waiting for you or Tommy to pop up and say it’s a joke. It would be a cruel joke but it would mean that you’re here. Here with me,” she slowed pushed herself up from the dewy grass.

“I love you.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well hello there!!!
> 
> welcome back, hopefully if you are reading this then you decided that you wanted to stick with me for the ride and read another chapter. they'll probably be longer in the future, i'm just testing out the waters. 
> 
> so, this is officially a bratva au which is a revamp of my old series he didn't even say goodbye from months ago which wasn't bratva. but now i'm pursuing the bratva root because who doesn't like to imagine stephen amell whispering things in russian. 
> 
> on the russian note, i (unfortunately) do not know any russian so have relied on the less than trustworthy google translate so i think that Ангел мой means my angel and Вы чертовски ума, вы мудак is are you fucking crazy, you asshole? 
> 
> for some reason, according to my computer, the font changes half way through. i have no clue why so lets gloss over it and pretend it hasn't happened! 
> 
> on that note, have a good day, enjoy this next chapter and sit tight for the next one.

Felicity cannot remember the last time she fell into a peaceful sleep. She could toss and turn for hours. She begged to different Gods, none of which she believed in, to let the sleep drag her under, it never came. She lies there staring at the ceiling until the swirls change into shapes or patterns. In the mix of it all, sometimes she sees his face.

“Oliver,” she whispers his name into the darkness.

She does that, sometimes. Just to remind herself how his name sounds leaving her lips. It’s a prayer. It’s never answered. This time is different. It used to be light, filled with love. Then there was a bitterness lingering, ready to bite back at any moment. Now, it rolls of her tongue with no emotion.

Most words roll off of her tongue unemotionally nowadays.

Time has changed her. In the beginning, she had held onto herself. She put up a front. The front had been her defence for years. With the business they’re in, she needed it. Now she built castle walls around her. To keep herself protected. They stood tall. Unwavering. Secluded? Maybe. No one was going to hurt her ever again. Not that anyone could hurt her like _he_ did. The second year was worse. The anniversary had cut the wound deeper. She kept it under wraps though. To the outside, the wounds she was fighting looked like mere paper cuts. To her, they were bullet wounds. In the third year, she stopped most communications. No replies to texts. She refused to touch her tablet. He bought it, after all. The constant reminders were something she didn’t need. She caught it playing a slideshow once. A cruel trick. Too many photos flickered by. Photos of her smiling radiantly with Oliver beside her. In most photos, he was not smiling. It was more of a pained grimace. His own front. A ‘my-wife-is-forcing-me-to-be-in-this-photo-and-I-can’t-look-like-I’m-remotely-happy-to-the-outside-world’ grimace. She understood though. He didn’t like pictures.She took them anyway. Oliver had his own castle walls. But Felicity had the key. At least she thought she did. Alone in their apartment, watching over their city. He smiled then. He needed people to see what they thought they already knew. In the fourth year, she learned Thea was pregnant. Extra protection was brought in. She simply snuck past. Those skills never left. Thea and Roy welcomed her with open arms when she showed up at their penthouse. They could never bring themselves to question her soaking wet hair, the mascara stains and the ratty PJ bottoms. They simply held her close whilst talking about her soon to be nephew and niece. Now she’s known as ‘Auntie Felicity’ to them. A change from ‘Viper’ to say the least. It sounds strange on her tongue. Foreign. Oliver and Eleanor, Her two little angels. The light in a deep, dark murderous world. She would never admit to herself that the pang in her chest every single time she glances at her nephew is because he has the Queen eyes.

His eyes.

When sleep finally takes her, it is always fleeting. Fleeting or haunting. She sees him. She sees the ship. She sees _her_. She relives an accident that she wasn’t part of.

Murky water fills her lungs. Unknown depths drag her under. It fills up the boat till she can’t breathe. Each time she grasps holds of him, he turns away. Promises her that the Canary won’t get to her. He won’t let her have the same fate as him. He leaves her. He always turns away, swimming in the other direction. The fight is an eternity that lasts seconds.

“Cat got your tongue?” He threatens, his firm grip grasping the offenders tongue.

The blade sinks into his abdomen. Crimson. Her screeches rip from her throat as she thrashes about trying to reach him.

The leering gaze of his attacker pierces through her till she wakes.

Each time, she wakes spluttering and coughing. The gasps for air don’t stop but he is there with her.
    
    
      “Hey, hey –it’s alright, Ангел мой,” he murmurs as he brushes her halo of hair away from the drops of sweat that have formed on her forehead. “Come a bit closer. I’ve got you, I’ve always got you. It is just a nightmare. I am here.”
    
    
    
      She closes her eyes once more as he whispers sweet nothings in her ear. With a slip of his tongue they pass back and forth in Russian and English. Tuneful and tender. A lullaby. A melody she could listen to as if it was the only song on the earth worth hearing.
    

Groggily, Felicity opens her eyes.

“Oliver?” She questions.

It comes flooding back to her, wave after wave. He isn’t here. That was not real. It was just another mind trick. When she thinks she has woken from her nightmares but she hasn’t. Time and time again, it fools her. Every time, deep down, past the hurt, she wishes that he would whisper those sweet nothings into her ear once more.

She half expects him to come sauntering through the door in his boxers with a cup of tea. She half expects him to come through the door, whisper about what else could keep her up all night. She half expects him to come through the door with the tired look, wounds patched after a heavy night, before joining her in bed for much needed rest.

He never does.

With a sigh, she turns over. Maybe this time, sleep will give her the release she wants.

It never does.

The harsh sunlight rouses her, the cool air from the half open window drifting in. She visits his grave on their anniversary each year. On their half-anniversary as well. A personal joke between the two, more commonly used as a tactic of getting their way with one another.

She never visits in the day. The dark still holds her hostage, scaring her. She likes to think she handles it. She saves up her rambles just for him. Nowadays, she avoids almost everybody. Especially Queen Consolidated. Not forgetting the mob. The whole office guesses that Oliver Queen left with a woman on her boat. The mob know that he was defeated by the Canary. She hears the mutterings behind her back. She learns to tune them out. The note containing threats are promptly screwed up. Thrown away. Followed by burning, just to be certain. The fire alarm ringing sets of an alert. Do not threaten Felicity Queen. Oliver’s position is hers. CEO. She gives her answers through nods and subtle head shakes. The notion of her being an ‘Ice Queen,’ rings true.

Her personal thoughts are saved for him. Then she sits there for hours and hours. Talking about the newest changes to the company, to what Tommy is doing now, to something adorable the twins did today that made her feel a little lighter for a while, before changing to “why didn’t you fight back?”, and then “how could you not tell me?”, to “think of the danger you left me in?”, morphing into “please come back,” till she drifts off to the most peaceful sleep she has had since he disappeared.

Digg watches over from the trees till the next morning. Teeth chatter in her slumber, her fingers firmly clasped around the pendant. His last gift.

Each day should be a new start. Felicity never believed this. She smoothed her skirt for the umpteenth time. She was never one for vanity, much preferring to leave her hair in a messy ponytail as opposed to the tight, drawn bun her hair had been forced into. Her blazer lay waiting on the hanger in the hall. She reapplied her lipstick. Her lips pursed as she shook her head in disbelief. The make-up artist had done a convincing job with the black circles that plagued her under eyes. Felicity hope the flash of the camera wouldn’t see through it.

As she fumbled in her pocket, she desperately reached for the flask. The burn in the back of her throat gave her confidence. A ridiculously expensive pair of extravagant bright yellow shoes from Thea and Roy. Felicity laughed to herself, as if this gift could fill the aching hole in her heart.

Finally, she reached for the necklace. Her beautiful pendant. Bringing it to her lips, she lightly pressed a kiss to the cold golden circle that rested in the centre.

“Want some help with that, lady?” One of the men protecting her questioned from the door way.

“Вы чертовски ума, вы мудак?” Her deathly glare spoke for her as she fastened it around her neck.

“Ready, Mrs Queen?”

He received a wall of silence.

“Over here, Mrs Queen!”

“To your left, Mrs Queen.”

“Look this way!”

“No, look this way.”

“Mrs Queen, how do you feel taking over a position meant for your deceased husband?”

“Would Mr Queen be proud, Mrs Queen?”

“How did you end up with the company, you are not a true Queen!”

“Oi, sweetheart – I heard he left you for another woman!

Felicity flinched at the last question. Her piercing gaze struck the man into falling silent. The slight falter in her next step left her desperately trying to recover her bluff. Straight shoulders reminded her she needed to hold on to whatever dignity she had left.

The butterflies were building her stomach. She ways yet to conquer them. She could do nothing but let them continue to make her feel like her heart was in her throat.

She cleared her throat, addressing the reporters in front of her. “I, Felicity Queen, would like to welcome you into the doors of Queen Consolidated. I recognise it has been a tough, hard five years. Thank you for your patience. I understand many of you will have heard rumours that I will be taking the position of CEO. I am here to confirm those rumours. I, Felicity Queen, am head of Queen Consolidated. I promise I will do this company proud. During times like these with unprecedented disasters at every corner, I vow to protect this city. Furthermore, I shall continue to preserve to make the company the best it can be. Any questions will be answered in the next thirty minutes at my discretion. Please, ask away.”

A flurry of flashes hit her like a ton of bricks. Questions flew round the room from every corner. She searched out through the crowd before settling on a particularly friendly face.

“Mrs Queen, do you understand the concerns that investors will have due to your lack of business skills?”

“I believe that the investors should be more thorough in their research. I may have a degree in Computer Science but I took a post graduate degree in business. I’ve spent long enough with the Queen family to have an idea of what is going on. Next?”

“Could the company not be left in perhaps, the capable hands of Walter Steele, Mr Queen’s deputy?”

“Did I not make my previous answer clear enough? No? Here is some clarity. I was chosen by Moira Queen. She believes I am best for the company. I have big plans. Many of which involve the applied sciences division. I look forward to taking on new projects. As a business woman, I intend to put this company where it belongs. At the top.”

Murmuring broke out amongst the reporters in the audience. Another flurry of hands shot up, anxiously waiting for their question to be answered.

“What should make us believe in you, Mrs Queen? There are rumours of Mr Queen leaving with another woman. More recently, connections with the Bratva have been hinted at by the police…” The reporter trailed off.

A pin could have been heard dropping in the lobby of Queen Consolidated.

“Let me be clear. My husband, the Queen family and myself have no affiliation with the Russian mob. No more questions. Thank you all for coming.”

With that, Felicity walked away leaving an aftermath of frantic pens meeting notepads.

Moira fell into step beside her. Felicity anticipated the lecture.

“You answered that well, Felicity. I don’t want to see the stocks take another pounding.”

“Then perhaps, Moira, next time you feel like blackmailing someone into signing a contract for a position they have no intention of holding, you’ll think twice.”

Moira stopped, throwing her arm in front of Felicity to bring her to a grinding halt, “you are a Queen. You will do as you are told. You have no right to call the shots within my organisation. You are not him.”

“I know I’m not him. He wouldn’t take any of your shit.”

Moira raised above Felicity, towering above her. The presence of a knife against Felicity’s thigh made itself known.

“If I had a choice, you would not be carrying the Queen name. I hope this,” she said as she pressed the blade further into Felicity’s skin, “makes it clear that if you did not hold it, I would not think twice about dragging this blade across your throat. My son seemed to adore you. The subject is up for discussion, seeing as he went on a boat with another woman. I can do nothing but publicly support you to ensure that this company succeeds.”

The pressure on her thigh disappeared, the blood surging from the wound. Felicity watched Moira Queen stalk away from her.

“Oh and Felicity? If you want Oliver and Eleanor to grow up with parents, you should watch your step. Tragic accidents seem to run in the Queen family name.”

With each step, Felicity’s eyes burned holes into her back.

The frantic return towards her office as she put pressure on the wound left her wheezing in the executive elevator.

“That bitch,” she mumbled as she hastily bashed the button for her floor. Thankfully, the long ride upwards led her to a silent office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!!!!


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone, hope you had a fab weekend! not long now until arrow returns to our screens. 
> 
> in the meanwhile, you could read this...
> 
> once again, my russian is not existent therefore i am relying on google translate which may not make sense so "естьпредатель среди нас" should mean "there is a traitor among us" and лидер means leader. 
> 
> enjoy!

The last time she had been up here, they had been together. Upon the realisation that the view from her window on the highest floor of Queen Consolidated meant she could see every place Oliver and her had set foot in, collapsing onto the chair was her only option. Her delicate fingers carefully lifted the blood soaked dress. Stitches would definitely be required. She buzzed for Diggle repeatedly on the button beside her desk.

Without a doubt, Moira was most likely watching. The wound didn’t look too deep but the blood trickled down her leg, Felicity thought maybe if she left it long enough then it might just do her some damage.

A knock on the door left her reaching for the emergency button on her left.

“Digg, thank God it’s you,” she mumbled, wincing in pain, “did you bring me up my needles and gloves?”

After that, the scar on her abdomen acted as a constant reminder of what she was left to deal with. Moira Queen’s threats filled her every waking hour. Working at Queen Consolidated had become difficult under Moira’s close watch. Whilst Felicity received praise for the stock value being the highest it had even been, the glint of Moira’s eyes matched the glint of the blade she wished to forget.

Office work requires rhythm. It was a distraction on darker days. Darker days where even the twin’s babble couldn’t make her crack a smile. Days where the impending threat of Moira Queen’s wrath was the last of her problems. Still, it acted as a distraction from the thoughts that spun round and round in her head.

When the clock finally struck one, Felicity made her way towards the door. She stopped upon hearing voices.

“You know, Bree – I just don’t get her. She is perfectly pleasant but she seems consumed with grief,” said Tanya, her secretary as she toyed with the phone wire.

It dawned on Felicity that perhaps, Tanya was talking about her. Felicity dithered over whether she should make her presence known. A nagging feeling in her stomach made her stay rooted to the ground, quiet as a mouse.

Tanya laughed, leaning back in her chair, “You see, it has been at least five years since her husband disappeared. You would think she would have gotten over it by now? God knows there are some hot pieces of ass around this office. Michael in accounting is something else. Anyway, what was I saying? She mopes around here like she’s lost the love of her life or something. She’s twenty seven. She still has time. Pathetic, right? Mmmm, I agree. No, no, no. Actually, maybe.”

Tanya paused, clearly thinking over what the recipient had said, “I mean, come on. She’s up there in her penthouse apartment, has endless dough to spend and still manages to look unhappy. So what, he left her. Cry me a river. The rumours about that girl sneaking on the boat were probably right. She’s such an uptight bitch, maybe he wasn’t getting any. He clearly didn’t love her anyway. Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’ll fill you in on how the pathetic bitch is after lunch. Duty calls. I know, she works me like a slave. Queen Bitch – ha, see what I did there? She’ll probably be moping around like normal. Alright, ciao babe.”

Felicity clicked the cap off of the gun before she took a shaky step forward, “do you want to say that again?”

Tanya’s face turned white as a sheet, “D-did you hear any of that?”

“Which bit? The part where you claimed I wasn’t allowed to grieve over my dead husband or the bit where you continued to insult me by suggesting my husband didn’t love me?”

Felicity twirled the gun around in her hand, whilst her watchful eyes held Tanya’s every movement. Tanya’s face fell, the reality sinking in. The slight intake of breath when Felicity pressed the gun against Tanya’s forehead, it gave her a sense of sweet satisfaction, “I want your stuff out by the end of the hour. Scrap that, by the time I get back from lunch. You have twenty minutes, at most. No more time than that.”

“Mrs Queen, I-I can explain,” Tanya’s voice trembled.

“No,” Felicity asked, adjusting the gun slightly, “there will be no explanations. One last suggestion, Tanya. Get the hell out of my building.”

“You’re crazy.”

“So what if I am? Who will believe you, Tanya?”

“Y-you have links to the mob.”

She flinched as Felicity smirked whilst moving her hand towards the trigger, “what mob?”

Tanya scrambled up from her seat, small sobs filling the otherwise silent room.

“I expect you to be gone when I return from lunch.”

Felicity turned on her heel. She slipped the gun back inside her coat pocket before she sauntered out of her office towards the lifts.

Behind the safety of the closed lift doors, she let out a deep breath. The gun weighed heavily in her pocket, awakening something she had long forgotten. What that kind of control felt like.

Tanya stayed quiet for a week. The newspaper reports exploded whilst she was in the middle of a high profile meeting, big investors. The newspapers were delivered before she even arrived.

The Ice Queen: Reports of Queen Consolidated Felicity Queen’s behaviour sparks more rumours of links to the Russian Mafia.

Fresh from the company itself, recent employee, Tanya Tanner, had a few words to say about her boss. The personal secretary to Felicity Queen spoke about her harsh words and exactly what it was like to be fired by Mrs Queen. Mrs Queen has become notably known as an Ice Queen, coming under fire for her incredibly high expectations of staff.

“Obviously, I was heartbroken. It was my dream job. She took it away from me with a snap of her fingers. In the most unpleasant way, it makes me shiver just thinking about it,” Miss Tanner told the Daily Star.

Whilst Miss Tanner was adamant that not all details were worth being shared, it certainly seemed differently. There were hints towards something sinister lurking around the high rise offices of Queen Consolidated. It is not the first time that this has been mentioned but each time any association or suggestion of unlawful behaviour has been made, it has been immediately – for lack of a better word – shot down.

“Why?” You might ask. The question everyone wants answers to. Every time these small rumours spark questions, no answers are given. Unfortunately, due to confidentiality clauses, we were unable to take a direct statement from Miss Tanner herself about the ongoing bizarre behaviour. Although, a source close to her mentions repeated hushed phone calls, threatening lower tones and the possible use of arms.

Could this be the beginning of the end for Queen Consolidated, folks? Whilst any publicity is good publicity, the mob rumours are taking a toll on Queen Consolidated’s shares. For the time being, it appears that Queen Consolidated is under the reign of an Ice Queen.

It doesn’t appeared to have fazed Mrs Queen who was recently seen walking alongside Thea Queen and Roy Harper (inset) earlier this week. A happy front, Mrs Queen was the picture of perfection as she enjoyed an ice cream cone. The little things, right? We will continue to keep you updated as this saga unfolds. Turn the page for information on how to get Mrs Queen’s flawless style.

“Ice Queen, huh?”

“I assure you, Bruce – I have nothing to do with the mob,” she flashed him an innocent smile in return.

“It seems strange that these rumours fly around so frequently. Give me a reason why I should invest in the applied sciences division?”

“Because Bruce, you and I both know all about the importance of keeping secrets.”

After that article, the nickname stuck. The word Ice Queen was printed profusely over the following weeks. Felicity had her revenge though. The notion that she may or may not have been involved in the disappearance of thirty thousand dollars from a Miss Tanya Tanner’s bank account. Obviously, this was most certainly not linked to her in any way. Or at least, she was good enough at covering her tracks that it couldn’t be proved.

Equally, the employee’s crowned Felicity as the ‘Ice Queen’ behind her back. They thought she didn’t hear the whispers. Felicity knew something about eyes and ears. Hers were everywhere. Something tugged at her stomach. A concoction of loneliness, guilt and anger span round in her mind. Yet she never wavered. The Ice Queen façade worked nicely for her.

The ‘welcome back’ speech after Christmas highlighted this to her. Standing at the podium in the lobby, she realised that every single employee in this room thought the same as Tanya had. Their eyes bored into her own but she refused to shy away from them.

When the boat first sank, Felicity had been in a state of shock. There were affairs to get in order, people to contact and a body count that even she disagreed with. In the beginning, people asked her how she was. How was she coping? The unspoken answer was that she wasn’t. After a while, the asking stopped altogether. Maybe they never cared in the first place. Maybe her defences scared people away. The latter seemed likely. To an extent, distancing herself made her safer. Moira sat on her throne, Felicity was her puppet. The Tanya incident fuelled a part of her that brought memories of the rush she and Oliver received from everything. All of it. The sound the gun made when she pulled the trigger. The bargaining and pleas. The way he would protect her no matter what and vice versa. Her mind wondered as she cast her gaze over the crowd. If they thought of her as an Ice Queen, so be it.

A sharp nod towards the side. Impeccable posture. Piercing eyes. Bored sighs. Tapping Feet. Impatience. Lack of sympathy, lack of compassion. In her line of work, the last two were integral. Without them, you were dead. She hated to think of what Oliver might think of her now. Sure, before she could take care of herself. But now… it was something else. A rush. A cheap thrill. One where excuses could not be made by the deceased Bratva captain. Then she remembered he didn’t fight. He left her. Gave in. Gave up. Left her here to drown in the wreckage he left behind.

The speech came to a close, she blagged about the strong shares. Incentive for a Christmas bonus, incentive for them to leave her alone.

“Lastly, I would like to remind you all to be constantly vigilant. I’m addressing each and every one of you. I will not tolerate rumours. Especially ones which damage the company. Thank you,” the quiet lethal tone of her voice could have caused speculation on its own.

Straight afterwards, the return to the safety of her office was inevitable. The search for activity that was indeed mob related had recently increased. Whispers of Malcolm Merlyn were thrown around at the last meeting. To say tensions were high was no exaggeration.

However, this did not faze her. On the other hand, the scented perfume of the roses wafting from her office did.

Her newest assistant was something of a nuisance. The timid daughter of one of the higher ups, she certainly didn’t have the stomach for this job. Felicity owed a favour though. If she could get it out of the way now then so be it.

“Is this some sick joke?” She spat out as she strode across the room towards her secretary.

The vase smashed against the wall, shards scattered across the floor.

“No, no, no, Mrs Queen. T-they were delivered earlier today. I-I let them in. E-everyone deserves flowers, sometimes. I just thought…” Anya said as she quietly justified the flowers.

The flowers were the most beautiful roses Felicity had ever seen. Simply because she recognised them. It took her a moment to place the smell but they were from her own garden. Her private garden. They were Oliver’s roses. The burner phone in her pocket buzzed.

“естьпредатель среди нас,” she answered before swiftly cutting them off.

Anya froze, staring back at her boss with wide eyes.

“You know nothing.”

Anya nodded, “I thought that, maybe, the flowers would cheer you up.”

“Well you thought wrong. I want you to trace the buyer. Hell, never mind. I can trace the buyer. Get back to sorting out those meetings for me. Now. I need a drink. Or three.”

“Felicity…,” Anya began as she took a deep breath.

“What?”

“I know your husband has fallen but many think you deserve your rightful place.”

“There is no rightful place. You understand the bratva? Then you understand it belongs to the mother when her son is gone.”

Anya left the room without another word. The sigh of relief Felicity breathed allowed her to inhale the glorious scent of her roses.

_“I’m going to take my hands way in three, two, one,” Oliver announced, carefully removing the blindfold from her eyes._

_Felicity gasped._

_“What is this?” She asked, forgetting about her prior annoyance at being blindfolded._

_“Well I just thought…,”_

_“No, you idiot. I’m not angry. I think for once, Mr Queen, you have rendered Mrs Queen speechless.”_

_“So, what do you think?” Oliver’s lilting voice filled up the space surrounding them._

_“What do I think?”_

_“Well is there anyone else here?”_

_“I should hope not, who knows what we would do to them.”_

_Felicity was never speechless. She always had something to say. Most people knew that Felicity was never lost for words. Oliver Queen knew that better than anyone which is why he was beginning to worry over her silence._

_“The most beautiful place in the world.”_

_“What?” Oliver frowned._

_“This, this is the most beautiful place in the world,” Felicity said, pressing a kiss to Oliver’s cheek as her lips felt the scratch of his stubble._

_He had pulled out all the stops. Oliver had worked extremely hard to get this into place for her. They both knew their first home was important. It was more meaningful than their old flat. Their new penthouse was something else. Well, as modest as possible when the Queen family was involved. Felicity had felt like a princess. She might have even said she felt like a Queen. Yet this small, quaint piece of land that was their new garden was their sanity._

_The garden was a sea of vibrant flowers and green. The different selections of tulips swayed slightly in the breeze. Vast, spacious green was the centre of it all. Buttercups and daisies grew wildly amongst the grass. A rose crept along the wall, twisting and turning between the ivy leaves that followed it. The smell of freshly cut grass hung in the air. A comfortable silence filled the air, bar the quiet singing of the canary birds on the bird table._

_“Oliver.”_

_“Felicity.”_

_“Oliver.”_

_“Felicity…”_

_She could hear the smile sneaking into his voice. They often had conversations like this when they had the time. Just through their names. Felicity conveying that he’d done too much but she appreciated it. He disputed this, trying to tell her he did it because he loves her, by using her name alone._

_He grasped by the waist and she let out a moan in surprise before wriggling, leading to the both of them collapsing on the floor with grunts from both parties._

_“The grass is like green velvet sheets,” Felicity moaned, rolling about in the grass._

_“You are very peculiar, you know.”_

_“But you married me anyway.”_

_She shuffled towards him as he moved to arrange them comfortable, “might have been the best decision of my life.”_

_“Might have been?” she queried._

_“Definitely the best decision of my life.”_

_“If I ask you to dance, will you?” she questioned again._

_“What makes you think I wouldn’t?”_

_“The nickname ‘Two Left Feet’ that Thea mentions occasionally when she’s looking for a low blow. That and the five guards around the perimeter. Wasn’t sure you would want to let them see their captain letting loose,” she murmured into his chest._

_His eyes narrowed, “If they have a problem with the captain dancing with his wife, then they can tell me themselves.”_

_The silence spoke for them._

_Slowly, Felicity got to her feet as she held out her hand._

_Oliver looked up at her, “anything for you, my Queen.”_

_“I see what you did, Mr Queen. The award for most used pun of the year goes to…”_

_“You love it.”_

_“Would you do it even if I told Aminev? I can picture his face now. The shock and horror of the deadliest man in America dancing with his wife. I think you would still dance with me anyway.”_

_“I think I would.”_

_She intertwined his hand with her own before pulling him up. She was slightly surprised she managed, he was muscles all over. Then again, her training might be paying off._

_“Now twirl me,” Felicity instructed._

_And he did. Her laughter rang out around him. Oliver never wanted to hear any other sound. He twirled her till she felt dizzy, supporting her when she slumped against him in dizzy defeat._

_“One more request?” She asked._

_“He could see she was plotting something, “fine.”_

_“Move back. Yep, keep going. Don’t stop until I say so. Don’t roll your eyes at me, Mr. You’ll pay for it later. Don’t wiggle your eyebrows at me either. Okay, so you know The Notebook? Well I was wondering if we could, you know? I don’t expect you to of course, I’m being so sappy. Really. I doubt you’ll agree to it. Your face is a picture, Oliver. Yes or no. You know what I’m asking.”_

_“That scene? The one you made me watch over and over when we were seventeen? The one that made you cry? Do you really want to do this? Okay. I won’t argue on that one. It still wasn’t tear worthy, you know. Do you really want to do this? Fine, fine, fine.”_

_So they did. Felicity jumped. Oliver nearly dropped her. Somewhere between all of that, they were all lips and hands. Hands that grabbed at clothing and lips that felt like they were on fire when they touched. Fire. It burned. It burned in the best way. It cursed through the both of them. It sent shivers to their toes. Down their spines. When they finally broke apart, they were no longer hands and lips. Just pants with passionate glints in their eyes._

_“I think it’s time to head back. I’ve got that meeting with Bolshov.”_

_“Have you got time to christen the kitchen first?” Felicity winked before making a break towards the car with Oliver hot on her heels._

“Mrs Queen, I couldn’t stop her from coming in,” Anya interrupted her reminiscing.

Moria Queen stood in the doorway.

“You!” Felicity cried, her restraint snapping as she propelled herself at her mother-in-law.  
“Felicity, control yourself,” Moira snapped. “I see you liked the roses.”

Felicity opened her mouth in retaliation, ready to attack before she was silenced once more.

“I’ve come about the shares and stock prices. I’ve noticed they have dropped, recently. Sort it out. It is clear that you have not been listening to anything I have said to you. Perhaps the demolishing of a certain rose garden will change your mind? I want you to fix it. Put them off the trail of the mob.”

“I am trying,” Felicity spoke with precision, never letting her eye contact drop.

“No, you are not trying hard enough. If I have to look after the mob then you have to do your part here at Queen Consolidated.”

Felicity scoffed and refrained from rolling her eyes, “did you not hear me? I am trying.”

“And I told you, try harder. I will not tolerate this, Felicity. Oliver would not have wanted to see the family company in ruins at the hands of his dearest wife.”

“I am not ruining the company. He would never have let this happen!”

“He is dead, Felicity. Wake up. He has let it happen. Get your act together because you are causing me a problem. As you know, I like to eliminate my problems.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“He is dead, Felicity. I am well within my right.”

“Stop saying that,” Felicity pleaded.

“It is the truth, Felicity. He is gone and I am the leader. People are looking to me. Now it is my job to protect the family. If the company goes bust, we will have a problem. Money would become an issue. Money cannot become an issue because if it does, the price tag on the both of us becomes significantly bigger. The mark on our backs becomes more prominent. That and I wouldn’t be able to provide for Thea.”

“Stop using her as leverage to make me feel guilty.”

“I am not making you feel guilty, Felicity. Clearly, you feel guilty. You know this is the right thing to do. Sign it,” Moira pulled a document from her bag and laid it on the table.

“What if I say no?”

“You don’t get to say no. That will not be how this works. You will sign that piece of paper. Bolshov needs your signature. Something to with share prices. Sign it or I will ruin your precious garden.”

At the mention of the garden, Felicity reluctantly picked up her pen. Silently, she signed it, “now leave.”

Moira grasped the paper, malice shining in her eyes, “that was all I wanted, Felicity. See how easy that was?”

“I will see you out, лидер. Mrs Queen has another meeting she needs to attend,” Anya cautiously addressed Moira.

A calm settled over the room.

Whilst months had passed since Moira’s eventful drop in, Felicity never forgot Anya’s courage in speaking to the captain. She never showed it but the comment about her rightful place made had made her warm to Anya. She was only an innocent. An innocent with a lot to say but an innocent none the less.

So when she walked into her office to see Anya nearly passed out with a small device poking out of her neck, she immediately rushed to her office to sound the alarm.

Not before she noticed the note. Clever girl, she thought. In illegible writing was the word ‘man’.

Felicity slid her heels off. She padded across the floor, thanking her lucky stars that she had hidden her revolver in the lining of her coat pocket. Taking her phone from her pocket, she switched into silence mode and rang Digg.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, she gingerly opened the door to her office. Something felt difference. There was a different type of tension. She couldn’t quite grasp where it was coming from. She surveyed the room. Someone was sat in her chair. It was faced away from her, blocking the main view of her city. Obviously, the visitor was enjoying the dazzling view of Starling City below.

Clearing her throat, Felicity placed her hands on her hips.

The chair spun around in a jumpy movement.

Felicity was not expecting this visitor.

“You?” Felicity spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Me?” Oliver replied, a slight smile forming on his lips.

“This isn’t real. This is a weird dream. This is one of those nightmares I have,” Felicity repeatedly muttered to herself under her breath like a mantra.

“You have nightmares?”

“You think you have the right to even ask that question?”

“Felicity…” he sighed.

“Give me a reason not to shoot you,” she tried to keep her voice from shaking.

“You have no gun in your hand.”

“No, you don’t get to do this. I won’t let you. I am trying to put you behind me. I put you behind me. Get out. I said, get out.”

“Just let me explain-“

“Get out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked it. apologises for any mistakes, i'm my own beta... (sad times)


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! slight delay in posting, very busy outside of writing life! 
> 
> apologies in advance for any mistakes. very tired girl with no beta. 
> 
> hope you've enjoyed the story so far and i hope you like this chapter!

“I said get out, Oliver.”

He flinched as his name rolled off of her tongue effortlessly. Time was frozen.

Felicity could feel the walls that she had built up cracking. It wouldn’t be long before they came crumbling down.

Oliver Queen had always a man of few words. In all of the years that Felicity had known him, he always knew the right thing to say at the right time. His relationship with words was one people strived to achieve for years and years. With one word alone, he could decide whether someone’s life was worth living. With one word, he could calm a situation of pure bedlam. With one word he could convince her he loved her wholeheartedly.

Yet stood before her, he stayed silent.

She made no effort to move from her spot by the door. Silently, it clicked shut behind her.

He made no effort to move from the desk.

The silence engulfed the room as each of them waited for the other to speak.

This reunion had been Felicity’s lifeline. It was all she had imagined since she heard he was gone. So what if she had been alone for five years? Okay, he had left her, but not out of choice. He should have fought harder. Oliver Queen was bratva. He knew how to cripple a man with his finger alone, so why had this been so difficult? Questions Felicity kept bottled inside her began to leap to the surface, begging to be voiced.

He looked different. Shaggy hair, dirty fingernails. So unlike her clean cut Oliver. His features were broader than before. His physique looked –if it was possible- more toned than before. In other ways, he hadn’t changed at all. He smelt the same. She tipped her head backed as she deeply inhaled the air around her. It was home.

He stayed still, not reacting to her in anyway.

Avoiding all logic, she shrieked for him to leave.

His eyes never left her face. They constantly searched out something in her gaze.

She could feel the tears stinging in her eyes as she raised her hand to point towards the door. Do not cry, the little voice inside her head reminded her.

Members of the bratva do not show weakness.

“For me, Oliver. Please.” 

Her trembling hand stayed pointed.

His expression stayed unreadable, except for his eyes. To her, they were an open book. She knew them like the back of her hand. She could still see he was looking for ways to reach her.

He reached for her shoulder. Her quick reflexes caught it. She would be a lost cause if he came any closer. It would be so easy to slip into his arms.

“You do not touch what is no longer yours.”

His eyes flashed at her remark but his hand returned to his side.

“Please, just get out. Don’t make me call security,” she grimaced.

Clearing his throat he spoke quietly for the first time, “you and I both know that John is outside the door.”

Her cold laugh echoed throughout the room.

“Felicity, I am not leaving until you listen to me.”

“Well, it will be a long night then,” she snapped. “If you won’t leave, then I will.”

“Felicity, listen to me. You are in danger,” he huffed.

Automatically, her eyes were drawn towards the nervous twitch of his fingers. She had not seen that mannerism for years, long before he became leader. She promptly chastised herself, this was not the time for reminiscing.

“When am I not in danger, Oliver? I have been part of this organisation for years. You and I both know that I do not need Diggle to take care of myself.”

“Hear me out, Felicity.”

A flash of annoyance crossed Felicity’s face, “hear you out? Oliver, you left me!”

“I had no choice!”

“How was I meant to know that, huh? Would you like to explain to me, Oliver, how I was meant to know that you weren’t dead?”

“You’re sma—“

“Don’t. Don’t even bother finishing that sentence. Do you know what it has been like, Oliver?” Felicity paced the room back and forth. “Do I need to repeat myself? Do you know what it has been like for me, Oliver? You know what, don’t answer that. You can’t, I won’t let you walk through this door and destroy me after thinking you have been gone for five years, five years. Five years. Five years when I played lady in waiting to that despicable bitch of a mother of yours whilst I waited and waited for it to be my turn. To put myself back where I belong. In charge. In charge because you and I both know that together we could have ruled the world at the head of that organisation.”

“Felicity, please…”

“I’m leaving before I end up shooting you.”

Oliver took a step to block her movement.

“I said, I will end shooting you. So back off and get out of my way.”

With that, she headed out of her office at a reckless speed, the echo of her heels against the cold marble floor leaving Oliver stood alone.

In her retreat, a fleeting thought crossed Felicity’s mind. Oliver was her ocean. She was the sand. He would always come back to her, no matter what.

Thankfully, no footsteps followed Felicity.

As she fished her phone out of her pocket, she answered the frantic voice on the other line, “Digg, did you get that? He is back. I want you watching his every move. Heading to Thea’s now. Oh and take care of Anya.”

She searched for an exit. A way out. It felt like the walls of Queen Consolidated were closing in on her. They were suffocating her, locking her in. Smothering her. She was drowning, drowning in one of the safest places.

A safe place.

She should say goodbye. The plan was already forming in her head. She could get out of this. She would be able to shut him out. Shut him down. Pretend like he didn’t turn up in her office.

So the goodbye might be temporary but it would give her the perfect opportunity to clear her head. Get the bigger picture and what not.

It barely took Felicity any time at all to reach her sister-in-law and her husband’s house. She knocked on the door hesitantly. No answer. There was no way that Moira could have got her hands on them, the QC stocks were up. She knocked again. A flood of relief overpowered her when she heard voices travelling towards her. The door flew open to reveal a tired Thea who was bouncing a much more awake Eleanor on her hip. Roy stood behind her, shoulders hunched in a protective stance as he balanced Oliver in his arms.

“Felicity, is everything okay?”

“Just wanted to stop by before you put the kids down for their afternoon nap. During my lunch. In fact, it’s past lunch. They’ll be going down for their nap soon, right? Busy day at the office. Really, really busy day. Piles of paper works. Mountains. Think Everest. I’m practically swimming in it. A paperwork sea,” Felicity blurted out all at once.

“I haven’t heard you babble like this in forever,” Roy frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Told you, long day. Busy. I mean busy. Busy day. Can I put them down for their nap?” She questioned as she barged through their doorway.

“Be our guest,” Thea smiled gratefully, humming the beauty and the beast song. “Maybe we could even get some alone time.”

“Yeah, that won’t be happening. Back at the office in thirty. Right, pass them over. Give them to Aunty Felicity.”

Carefully, Felicity took her niece and nephew from their worried looking parents, “I’m fine, okay?”

She flashed a smile that she had practiced over and over. The “I’m fine” smile which usually had everyone fooled.

“You know, we still worry about you. Is everything okay with… them?”

“Usual. Your mother’s trying to smuggle drugs across the border. I’m trying to protect the Glades. Nothing new.”

“I know since Mom took over she’s been giving you a tough time.”

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“You know, we still worry about you.”

“Nothing to be worried about,” Felicity remarked.

Thea glanced at her with a knowing look, “we’ll be in the living room. They were just finishing feeding when you knocked. They’re pretty much out for the count anyway,” she gestured to the half-asleep babies resting in Felicity’s arms.

Felicity smiled pleasantly, cradling each child against her tightly as she balanced them precariously whilst she walked up the stairs.

The nursery was one of Felicity’s favourite places. The discreet camera hidden in the teddy bear perched on the dresser confirmed Thea’s worries about the safety of her children. Other than that, nothing seemed amiss. The calm atmosphere allowed her to breathe a sigh of relief. She cautiously placed Oliver in the first crib, followed by Eleanor in the second.

“Hey, my beautiful tiny ones,” she smiled down at their twinkling blue eyes. “Has anyone ever told you how cute you are? Of course they have, you’re little Queens. Aunty Felicity is going away for a little while, my lovelies. Before I go, I wanted to let you know how much I love you. Little Eleanor, you missy are going to grow up to be a heart breaker. You’ll have everyone wrapped around your finger. Even Dimitri. Same for you, little mister. You have his eyes, Ollie pop. Ellie, you have his smile. It hurts to look at you, sometimes. We could have had it all. Anyway, you’re too little for the big league stuff. Yes you are, yes you are. I want to stay, sweethearts. I’m sure Thea and Roy will record all your firsts, though. Not the same as being her, obviously. It’s still something though. I promise, nothing bad will ever happen to you.

A tear rolled down Felicity’s cheek. She leant over the cribs, pressing a kiss on each babies head before she left the room. With one fleeting glance, she wiped her cheeks before collecting herself. Her attempt to leave the house unseen did not go well.

Just when she had thought she had made it to the door, Roy cleared his throat behind her.

“It’ll break her heart, Fliss.”

“Knock it off, Roy. No one calls me that anymore.”

“They don’t call you Viper anymore either. Is it true?”

Felicity held her breath. Her silence was the only answer Roy needed.

“The camera records voice as well.”

“I should have known.”

“Are you seriously going to walk out on all of us? On the twins? On me? On Thea? They need you. She needs you, Fliss. Heck, I need you,” Roy spat his words at her.

“I said, stop calling me that. Where is Thea?”

“She’s asleep. Come on, Felicity. Whatever it is, whatever has happened, we can have a… I don’t know, a… cup of tea! We can have a cup of tea and then we’ll fix it. You know what happens if you leave. There will be consequences.”

“I doubt a cup of tea will fix this.”

“You would be surprised.”

“Not this time. Tell her I’m sorry. I’ll get in touch, I promise. Keep Moira off my tail, would you?”

“Hug?”

“Hug,” she nodded.

She threw her arms around him, burying her face into his neck, “sorry, Roy.”

“I’ll contact Aminev. They’ll start closing in on the drug deal in the next twenty four hours. Best I can do to give you some time.”

“I appreciate it.”

“You’d better,” he laughed. “It could cost me my life, you know.”

Oh, she knew. So without a minute to spare, Felicity did something she had not done for a long time. She ran.

It didn’t take her long to organise her escape. With Moira off her trail, she would get a head start. She needed time to process. One of the first thing she learnt as a child? The mob never has time to spare. So she had to make time.

The train rolled into the station. She was itching to get away, as far away from Starling City as possible. In reality, she would probably go to the Coast City penthouse. The Paris villa was compromised. The London apartment was in use and any other safe houses were underground. Going underground was not something she could afford to do. So in reality, Coast City penthouse it was. If something truly serious happened, she would be back in a shot.

Her phone hadn’t stopped ringing since she said goodbye to Roy. Each time, she ignored it. Till the ring tone changed.

“What, Digg?”

“You have twenty four hours at most. Mrs Queen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing-“

“Digg, I know exactly what I’m doing. As people keep reminding me, I am the Viper and I have everything under control.”

She needed to escape. Maybe this really was a dream. A nightmare, even. A twisted nightmare. She’ll wake up any moment in a cold sweat.

A pinch on her arm disproved this.

Unable to focus on anything else, Felicity dialled the voicemail number.

“Eleven new messages. Press one to listen, press two to—“

With bated breath, she pressed one.

“ _Felicity? Please pick up. You can’t just leave. The twin’s safety is jeopardised. Whatever it is, we can talk about it! Is it the company? Is it going under? I know my mother is… difficult sometimes but I can bargain! I have favours too, you know. You’ve been doing so well as the CEO. Please, please answer the phone. I can’t lose someone else._ ”

“Press one to delete, press two for the next message.”

“ _Felicity_.”

“You have deleted this message. Press one for the next message.”

“ _Felicity, please!”_

It carried on, switching between the two voices.

She was dragged out of her voicemail induced haze from a voice across the platform. She sensed his presence before she saw him.

“I thought I asked you to leave me alone.”

“Get on the train with me.”

“Is that a question or a demand?”

“A question. Will you please get on the train with me?”

“Oliver, I want to get on the train. Alone. Now please, let me get on this train. Alone,” she emphasised the last word as she stared back at him.

Reaching forward, she held onto his arm tightly.

“You know, even before I walked into my office, I could sense you there? Something wasn’t right.”

“Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“No, Oliver. If anything, it tells me that you need to leave. That involves you walking away. With or without me putting a bullet in you. Don’t you get it? You left me. You promised me you—“

“I had no choice,” Oliver cut her off.

“Why did you even bother coming back?” She wiped a tear from her eye, ducking her head down to move towards the train.

She pushed past him, hoping the crowd for the train would swallow him whole. It took every ounce of courage in her body for her not to look back. If she looked back, he would be there. Her Oliver, would be stood there.

“Felicity, wait!”

She continued walking as she made a beeline for the train. Felicity was a bull in a china shop, she knocked numerous people over as she swung her bags around.

“Felicity, listen to me. I said, listen to me!”

His calls became increasingly distant as she boarded the train. He was nowhere in sight. Felicity locked herself into the first class cabin. Alone at last, he didn’t follow.

The train rolled into Coast City in the late evening. Felicity woke with a start, a loud clap of thunder shocking her. It rarely rained her. The raindrops raced down the window. Gathering her stuff, Felicity waited till all the passengers had left the train. She should have thought this through. She should have brought an umbrella. Maybe a burner phone, too. She braced herself as she stepped out into the heavy rain. The air was heavier here. A thick smog. The bright lights of the city seemed dimmer. It lacked the atmosphere of Starling.

Soon, she was shivering. The rain puddled in her shoes. Her hair clung to her face, droplets running down her back. Every inch of her clothing was drowning in the rain.

The train station office sent Felicity a worried look, “Are you okay, ma’am?”

She shrugged him off with a levelled glare. Picking up the pace, she desperately watched to reach the penthouse. It was just a couple roads away. Secure. Easy to reach. Centre of the city. Fitted in with the high rise, no one noticed it. She could will herself to keep it all together till then. A few moments of normality till the storm hits and takes her under. The final steps up to the apartment felt like a welcome home. The key in her hand searched for the lock.

Fiddling with the lock took longer than she had anticipated. As soon as the door opened, her tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Her bag fell off her should with a loud bang. She didn’t flinch. She sank to the ground, the floor a welcome friend. There was no conscious effort to lift herself off the floor.

He was everywhere.

He was the air that filled her lungs. He got into her head. He was in her heart. What had she done?

Throwing herself across the room, she picked up the closest object to her and threw it across the room with undeniable force. The smash of the mirror should have evoked some form of emotion from her, some sort of fear. Yet somehow, Felicity doubted her luck could get much worse. The destruction continued, she ripped papers, the sound of the shredding filling her with a sense of relief.

Finally, when there were no more things left to break, Felicity resumed her position on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her as tightly as they would allow. There were no more tears left to cry. Her face felt warm, her sobs prevented her from moving as they ran through her. The lack of tears made the action alien but Felicity’s sense of caring had long since disappeared. She hadn’t cried like this since she found out Oliver had left. After that, she had tried to control her crying. It didn’t change anything, she had still awoken in the night to find her pillow still wet.

A matter of hours, is all that it took for Felicity’s walls to crumble.

The next time she switched on her phone, her voicemails reached a record number. Ninety seven. Ninety seven messages. Most recently, a capitalised text reading ‘SWITCH ON THE NEWS. EXPLAIN? – D’.

Hesitantly, Felicity reached for the remote. The TV was one of the few items she had left untouched in her fit of rage. TMZ popped up on the screen, the words ‘Oliver Queen returns’ flashed in large red letters along the bottom of the screen.

The reported was supplying nuisance facts, parroting information that most people had heard before. The screen switched to a blurry photo, the shadow of Oliver Queen displayed clearly before her.

The lights flickered.

Felicity sensed a change in the room. She knew he was there.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver whispered from behind her.

“What part of alone don’t you get?”

“I’m glad you’ve still got your spark,” he smirked.

“Wipe that smirk off your face. Oliver, you left me,” Felicity spoke venomously.

The light in Oliver’s eyes disappeared as she spoke, “I know, you keep reminding me. I had no choice. I couldn’t help it.”

“How could have it gone so wrong? You had one mission. For the last five years, I have spent every day keeping walls up so high that I didn’t think I would break them down. In less than twenty four hours, you knocked them down. Do you know what that makes me? Weak. Do you know what that means? It means I’m vulnerable. You know what the means? It means I’m dead meat. The bratva’s dead meat. Your mother’s dead meat. We had one mission, Oliver. So if you would like to explain how you managed to end up dead for the last five years of my life, I would be very grateful.”

No reply.

“I’m waiting,” she tapped her foot, hands on hips.

“Felicity,”

“Stop saying my name, Oliver. I went five years without hearing you say it. Please, stop. For me.”

“I died trying to save you.”

“I know. That’s why it hurts even more. I spent the last five years wishing it had been me taking the fall, not you. For a moment, I thought maybe you were a traitor. Maybe you had gone off with her. Got caught up, wrong side.”

“You know I would never do that to you.”

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I didn’t spend the last five years questioning how the man who can take a guy out with a finger alone managed to be killed on a minor mission yacht trip,”

“It was more complicated than that, she was faster, I wasn’t prepared. None of us were prepared.”

“You don’t get to turn up randomly and do this. You can’t expect me to act like everything is okay. You thought I would just accept this ‘I’m back from the dead, surprise!’ show that you’re running. That I wouldn’t ask questions? Well let me tell you something, Oliver. I have a million questions.”

“You hate mysteries.”

Taken aback, Felicity struggled to find her words. Instead, she repeated his, “I hate mysteries.”

Neither of them spoke. The lights in the hall flickered again.

“Power surge?”

“Secret message. Stay away from the window.”

“They still use that?”

“It’s a fool proof method, Oliver. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Okay.”

Oliver stood powerlessly in the living room as Felicity head towards the bedroom. It was empty, just as she had left it when Oliver first…disappeared. It would take her a long time to get used to that. Disappeared instead of died.

She didn’t bother getting under the sheets. She simply sank into the duvet. Prayed for sleep to come. It did. Drifting between reality and sleep, she felt the bed dip beside her. A firm hand wrapped around her waist. Unconsciously, she shifted towards the warms. Immediately a feeling of safety embraced her.

Sighing, she rolled to face the comfort, “You’re being reckless. Do you know how reckless it was to get yourself caught on CCTV?”

Slowly, she forced her eyes to open. Oliver’s eyes burnt holes in her.

“Unless you wanted someone to know. Unless you were sending a warning,” she voiced her thoughts, barely above a whisper.

“The Canary is back in town.”

A bolt of fear ran through her. His grip tightened. Neither of them addressed his last sentence, each of them forcing their eyes closed.

She sank into the darkness with him, letting it surround her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> i hope you understand where felicity is coming from in this chapter. she's struggling - who wouldn't be if someone you thought was dead for five years suddenly came back.
> 
> i know that so far my story has referred to a lot of things and not explained them, it's a personal decision which seems to work for some but not be as clear for others so i'm sorry if there are parts that don't make sense - i am purposefully withholding some information. this bratva business is very secretive. if you want anything explained so far then just let me know! 
> 
> have a good week, until next time!!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see, half term is upon us and so is the next chapter!
> 
> no beta, apologises for any mistakes, i'll go back and change them later.
> 
> have a great day/night!xxxxx

The rain began to trickle down the windows in the early night. It transformed into a monster. It raged on outside, tearing down trees in its wake. It pounded on the window, the heavy sound waking Felicity from her sleep.

She slipped out of the bed from beside him before coming to stop at the window. When she was younger, she would do this all the time. She would fold herself up into as small a position as possible. It was her coping method. A way to escape her parents roaring arguments. It stopped them from playing over and over in her head like a record. She would wrap her arms as tightly around her tiny frame. She was her own protector. She shoved her thoughts of Oliver away. Instead, she focused on the raindrops as they race down the window. She followed them, betting on which would reach the bottom of the window the quickest.

Her eyes began to droop as the feeling of exhaustions filled her bones. Groggily, she crawled back into bed. A sudden clap of thunder illuminated the room, Oliver’s silhouette flashing before her eyes. The light receded, darkness covering the room once more.

Hands on her throat. They held her down. She couldn’t escape. They were everywhere. Her eyebrows scrunched in shock as she realised the hands were Oliver’s. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t gasp for air. Her lungs were on fire as they burned at the lack of oxygen.

Her arms began to feel limp. She frantically searched for the light in the dark, holding Oliver’s piercing dark gaze as he kept his hands locked around her neck. The more she searched for something, anything, the less she found.

"Oliver," she attempted to say, the words getting caught in her throat.

There was no way out. There was nothing human left in his eyes. This was primal. Animalistic. She wriggled her body underneath him, trying to break free.

Using what little breath she had left, she gasped, "P-please."

The vice around her neck tightened. This was it. She wasn’t going to be able to get him back. The darkness was everywhere now. It was ready to pull her under at any moment. There was no light at the end of his tunnel. A sinister darkness was going to be her killer. Whatever had happened to him, whatever act he had put on earlier was nothing in comparison to now.

So she relaxed.

His eyes fluttered, his body hunching as he sought out the attacker. Upon realisation, his grip slackened. The glazed look disappeared. Only to be replace with guilt. Guilt. It seemed to be radiating off him in the same way that the darkness wrapped around Felicity.

He began to speak, his own words dying on his lips, "I-I-I…"

It continued as he hastily tried, and failed, to find the words to explain.

She sunk back into the mattress, keeping him at arm’s length.

"Okay, I’m okay," she chanted under her breath, desperately trying to reassure him. She would give anything for the sense of guilt to disappear.

His shoulders shook as she continued to murmur her mantra. A storm raged on within him. Her comforting words did nothing to console him. The thunder shook the walls of the penthouse. The lightning illuminated the room once more as the thunder rumbled on. She braced herself, expecting the worse.

His voice travelled like the thunder, shaking her straight through to her core. The heartbreak shone through in his eyes. God, she had forgotten how easily she could read him. Apologies went unsaid. Oliver’s reluctance to speak left Felicity at a loss for words. Gone was the confident man she once knew.

What seemed like hours passed.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice barely reaching her ears. "I thought you were… I thought you were an attacker."

She curled closer to him, her arms linking through his own. Slowly, he followed her lead. Her arms barely managed to wrap their way around him. Hard muscle replaced the soft flesh that used to be.

They stayed that way for longer than Felicity cared to admit.

First her shoulders drooped, followed by her own shaking hands. The sound of sobs wracked through her body. Hesitantly, he clambered over the bed to reach her, pulling them both under the safety of the duvet. He buried his face in her neck as he cradled her in the safety of his arms, the feeling of his tears not being lost on her.

"I hate storms. You know that. I never felt safe without you there, it never felt the same. I can’t lose you, not again, not now, not ever. I thought you were gone, I thought it was a dream. I thought I’d lost you," her voice was muffed by his shoulder but he pulled her closer all the same.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "I’m here now. I wanted to speak to you first."

He mumbled the rest of the sentence as she strained to hear the words.

"I said, before I have to make an official appearance."

She could feel the elephant in the room. Hell, she could still feel the hands around her neck, "are we not going to talk about it?"

When Oliver ignored her, she simply sat up and knelt beside him.

"I know you heard me. Loud and clear. Are we going to dance around this, Oliver? Is that how this is going to be? You’re going to ignore it?" she trailed her fingers along the crook of his neck, trying her hardest to draw the truth out of him.

"That is exactly how it is going to be," he gritted his teeth.

"You can’t do that, Oliver. You can’t just shut me out! You don’t get to disappear and come back without explaining anything. Newsflash, it just isn’t possible! I woke up with your hands cutting off my air. Although, it’s nothing new because that is how I’ve felt being without you for the past five years. We need to talk about it, okay?"

The maddening glare in his eye returned once more, "I can’t."

Felicity refused to back down, "You can’t or you won’t? So you don’t want to talk about how you nearly suffocated me? Or perhaps about why you nearly suffocated me?  I deserve answers, I deserve a book of answers. Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t think you were going to let go of m-"

"Stop," Oliver’s voice fell flat.

She sought a sign of remorse within his eyes. She found nothing, just like she expected. He was going to play it cold. He was acting void. Void of emotion, void of her.

"Look, I get it."

"No, Felicity. That’s the point. You don’t get it."

"So make me understand it, make me get it!"

"I can’t," he bit out.

A glowing light from across the room interrupted them. The buzzing sound for a text message followed. Oliver jolted whilst Felicity immediately reached for his fingers, interlocking. They used to do that a lot when they were younger. If the other was scared, they’d reach for one another’s fingertips. Something to hold on to.

"Sorry, habit."

He recoiled at her touch.

She lowered her voice, "we have to talk about it. We have to talk about what happened. At some point. Maybe not right now…"

The phone lit up once more, requiring Felicity’s attention. A frustrated huff followed.

Felicity fumbled for something beneath the sheets, the telly being the source of the light this time.

"Oliver Queen has returned to Starling city, a sighting of a man who fits Queen’s height and facial features was seen today at Starling’s train station," flashed upon the screen repeatedly.

"I have to go," Oliver spoke softly.

"What about me?" She titled her head, question him with her movements.

"Pretend, pretend this didn’t happen. For me. Please. Pretend the first time you laid eyes on me in the last five years is when you get a call from Thea or the hospital. Please?" he pleaded once more.

"We aren’t done."

"We were never done, Felicity."

* * *

 

 

As expected, Felicity received a frantic phone call from Thea in the early hours of the morning. Her heart rate accelerated, her heart beating out of her chest. Thoughts of Oliver rushed through her head with all of the scenarios of what could have happened in the past five hours since she last laid eyes on him.

Since he walked out the door, Felicity had not moved more than an inch. She felt paralysed. She lay back in the sheets, tracing the folds in the sheets where he had previously rested. Everything she had built up in the last five years had crashed around her. The world had stopped turning. Her world had stopped turning.

Thea’s panicked tones blared on the other end of the phone. Felicity went through the motions. She left her coat hanging, the icy temperatures outside would not bother her with the fire burning inside.

"I’m in Coast City, Thea."

"I knew you would go there. I had an inkling. We will discuss you deserting us later. He’s back, Felicity. He’s really back," Thea’s voice barely contained her excitement.

It threw Felicity off guard for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last twenty four hours. Thea had done a lot of growing up during the last few years of Oliver’s disappearance. She had become a business woman. She ran numerous operations for Felicity and Moira. She was happily married to Roy. She was a mother to the most beautiful children. Yet the excitement she hardly managed concealed took away all of those layers. She was still Speedy. The little sister who raced after Oliver. The little sister he couldn’t shake. Both he and Felicity knew he wasn’t trying. He would have done anything to get his cheeky little sister to smile. Tears pricked at Felicity’s eyes.

"Are you okay? Felicity – can you hear me?" Thea demanded on the other end of the phone.  

‘Yes, yes I can hear you fine. I just… he’s back," Felicity wiped her eyes, refusing to shed anymore tears.

She couldn’t have Thea suspecting she knew something. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. In all honesty, she could hardly believe she managed to stay standing.

“Thea? Felicity questioned as she sped through the city on foot, “I’m on my way, okay?”

“I’m at the hospital. They said he’s in pretty bad shape. You might not like what you see,” Thea’s voice wavered once more. “He only wants to see you. He refused to speak to anyone else.’

‘It would take more than a few scars to drive me away, Thea. You should know that best of all.”

“Hurry, Felicity.”

So she hurried. She sped past building after building. Endless cooperate giants towered above as the bright lights of the city blurred. Roads she knew so well in the daylight looked unfamiliar. The silence that surrounded Coast City was suffocating her. She knew she had to persevere. A fresh start. She needed a fresh start. The hospital. She had to see him again. They needed to talk about everything properly. She just need breathing room fist. A breathing mansion, more like. Felicity was sure her lungs were about to give out on her. They couldn’t. Not before she reached Oliver though.

The train station was eerily quiet.

No trains.

She groaned in frustration, smacking her forehead at her stupidity. No coat. No train. The thunderstorm rolled through the city once more, drowning Felicity in buckets of rain. Everything was so ill-timed that she thought she would burst into tears at any moment.

A taxi appeared beside her. Felicity thanked her unlucky stars.

Forty five minutes later, Felicity found herself adamantly tapping her foot. She left the taxi unharmed, despite the voice in the back of her head reminding her of all malicious moves she could have done to protect herself.

Her phone beeped. Roy’s face flashed up on screen accompanied by a text promising a ride to the hospital.

Finally, Felicity climbed into his passenger seat.

Roy threw her an unimpressed look but she chose to ignore it, opting to stare out the window instead. Upon arriving at the hospital, she grabbed the door handle. Felicity clasped her hands around it. She turned her body as if she was ready to make an escape.

“Two more minutes until we arrive at the hospital. You can stay in the car for two more minutes, surely?”

He cringed at his insensitivity.

“Roy, I’ve waited five years to set eyes on him again.”

She played her part beautifully. Not before mentally cursing herself for the lie. She justified it by remind herself that this time, will almost be the first time all over again.

Felicity’s wild eyes flitted about in the darkness. The pools of bright blue creating a stark contrast in the darkness of the car.

“Two more minutes won’t hurt then,” Roy stifled a smile this time as if he was trying to make light of the situation.

A look of disgust graced her features, “don’t.”

“Fliss, your poker face has never changed. The disappearing act, a coincidence? I doubt it.”

“And your ability to connect the dots has never failed to surprise me, Roy.”

Two minutes later and two minutes too long, they finally arrived at the hospital’s entrance. Felicity’s movements were static as she desperately searched around for the hospital’s entrance as she looked for a familiar face.

“You might want to wait a minute,” Roy called out from behind her.

“What woman wouldn’t be desperate to see her husband after five years of turmoil?”

“The one who needs to have the hospital secured before she enters?”

She bluntly ignored him. Her pace quickened as if she was drawn to him as she headed through the hospital doors. Felicity walked with such a confidence that she felt people freeze in her wake. A look of determination like no other was fixed on her face whilst her eyes gave away nothing. Following the direction of the hospital floors, she kept one image in her mind. She was Felicity Smoak and she was going to be reunited with the fuel to her fire.

“Felicity,” Thea’s voice broke the trance as she ran towards Felicity full force until she was all legs and arms around her in an attempt to give her a much needed hug.

Felicity stilled as she tried not to flinch at the contact, “where is he?”

She had to keep up the act for longer. Just a little bit longer.

Thea pointed towards the Queen’s private suite. Felicity rolled her eyes. How on earth could she even think he would be anywhere else?

It would not be too late for her to do a disappearing act of her own, she thought to herself. She could hightail out of here before Oliver even realised she was in the building.  They need to talk. Now or never, a little voice in her mind chided. She pushed the door open hesitantly. Tip-toeing, she tried her hardest not to attract any attention.

“Nurse, I told you I don’t want to see anyone but—“

For once in her life, words failed Felicity.

Then in a heartbeat, he was everywhere. If personal space had ever existed between the two of them before, it definitely didn’t now.

It was different. Before, they had sunk into the darkness. In the bright clinical walls of the hospital, there was nowhere to hide. Everything was just an extra bit clearer.

She couldn’t breathe. The air escaped from her lungs. Her knees caved beneath her. The floor was a welcomed friend. Her eyes were no longer trained on him.

He saved her from the inevitable, catching her just before she hit the ground. However, she didn’t relax into his touch. She struggled from his grip.

Nothing was real anymore. This was a dream, a nightmare. It was something Felicity didn’t want any part in because although it was cliché, part of her still felt if she pinched her arm, her Oliver would not be standing in front of her. At least, it felt like that. It felt like they hadn’t laid in bed before now. The distance between them felt as though he was still another person on the missing persons register. She still felt like the woman who lost her husband so young.

As she counted to three out loud, she pinched her arm repeatedly until she realised nothing changed. This was no dream. Everything had happened. Late last night, he was there. He was giving her a look implying that her bizarre behaviour was confusing him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I only left you for five hours.”

“You left me for a lot longer than that, Oliver.”

He winced.

Moving closer towards her hesitantly, he reached out both his arms.

“Felicity…” he held her tightly. “Earlier was a mistake.”

Taking a step back, she looked at him in disbelief.

“What do you mean?”

“We shouldn’t have… I should have just come straight to the hospital. I think,” he interrupted himself between his next few words. It was evident he was phrasing them carefully in his head as he mulled them over. “I’m dangerous, Felicity. That shouldn’t have happened. I think it would be best if you left.”

“What?” she spluttered, dumbfounded. “You’ve always been dangerous, Oliver.”

“What I’m trying,” he emphasised the last word, “to say is, this is different. I think it would be best if you left. I can’t, I won’t wake up with you beside me. If that happens, again, I’m dangerous. I can’t—“

Without another word, Felicity turned her back on Oliver.

She would take a million nightmares, a million years of him being on that island instead of having a taste of what could have been before he smashed them to piece.

Felicity Smoak did not give up that easily.

A harsh cough at the door stalled their conversation abruptly.

“Oliver, darling, welcome back.”

“Mom?”

“We have missed you.”

“We?”

“The brotherhood. Business as usual, dear Oliver. Felicity, phone Bolshov, immediately.”

“What do you mean?” Felicity’s brow furrowed.

“The Captains back, let them know,пожалуйста.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed it, let me know!xxxxx

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!!!


End file.
